Okay, okay, okay. It is with great fear, trepidation, and hesitancy that I'm posting this. It is one of the most personal things I think Ive ever written on Myspace or anywhere on the internet for that matter. I'm not an open person, and just writing this was cathartic enough. I vowed to NEVER write personal stuff about me on the 'net. But for some reason I feel like this needs to be read. NOT for sympathy, and I am NOT whining. I guess I think it could be helpful to someone someday. Or I may wimp out and delete it after about 15 minutes. I will probably regret doing this and maybe Ill just make it private but here it goes...
I NEVER thought I would encounter a day that would be any longer and harder than the day my mom was admitted to the hospital...at least not for another 10 years or so. But this was that day. I don't think it was worse...it's pretty much AS BAD as that day, but in a different way. I cant really describe how. All I can really do is try to explain what happened.
It was the day after my moms gall bladder and kidney surgery. I woke up thinking that I would just take my time getting ready, and that Id go see her later in the day because I thought she'd need the rest after the relatively major surgery. I was wrong.
I was sitting here in the computer room doing the usual, when I got a call from my dad in the early afternoon. He said that my mom called and told him that she wanted him to come get her and take her home. I asked him why. He said that she told him the nurses were making her sit up and wouldn't let her get back into bed; that if she wanted to go back to bed, shed have to do it herself. He also told me that she said the nurses wouldn't give her any pain medication. Being my dad, I thought he probably misunderstood, so I called the nurses station, and the nurses weren't of much help. They seemed to make it sound as if she wasn't really all that bad.
I called my mom and asked her what was wrong. She pretty much told me the same thing that my dad said, but she was very frantic. She said the nurses were making fun of her and basically being mean to her, that she was really hurting and hadn't been on her feet in 13 days, that they wouldn't give her pain meds, and now they were making her get up. I told her that she just had major surgery and could not come home. I guess she misunderstood me and said something like, "Okay, you're going to take me home? I'll be waiting for you." I tried to tell her Mom! No! You cant come home. But she had hung up by the time I said that.
I called my dad and told him I was going over there as fast as I could. I called Jeff, freaking out as usual. He said to just get ready as quickly as I could and get over there. I still had to shower and get dressed, so I did that as fast as I could. I was crying the whole time, feeling like I had let my mom down, feeling scared for her, and angry at the nurses. I kept thinking I should have gone in right when visiting hours started so that I could be there when she woke up. In my head I kept saying, I'm coming Mommy! I'm not going to let them hurt you! I'm so sorry I'm not there!
I got ready as fast as I could, running all over the apartment, not paying attention to what I was doing, just thinking about getting to my mom. With those same thoughts running over and over in my head. I'm coming! I wont let them hurt you! I felt like the minutes were ticking away faster and faster and if I didn't hurry, it would be too late.
With my hair still soaking wet and tears streaming down my face, I ran to my car and started toward the hospital. I honestly don't remember how I got there. I didn't want to bother fighting for a parking spot, so I just parked the parking structure, which was not far away, but a considerable walk. I walked as fast as I could, and everything looked so weird. Everyone looked so normal and I wondered how they could all look so normal when my mom was in trouble.
When I got up to my mom's room, I felt like it had taken me forever to get there. She was right, they had her sitting up. And it looked like she had just finished eating (or mostly eating) very soft foods, as there was a tray of food pushed to her side. I rushed in and asked her what was wrong. She looked at me in a way I had NEVER seen her look at me before...with the COLDEST look I had ever seen in her eyes. She said, "they have you in on it too now, don't they?" I told her I didn't know what she was talking about, that I was there because she called me and I was worried about her. I told her I was sorry for not being there when she woke up. She didn't believe anything I said. She just kept saying how I was against her, siding with the doctors and nurses. She told me that they had cut off the phone so that she couldn't make any phone calls. I didn't know what to do. I told her that wasn't true. I told her they were there to help her. I was crying and pleading with her to listen to me and believe me. I was dumbfounded and confused. This all felt so surreal. I kept trying to tell myself that this behavior was probably due to the meds the anesthesiologist gave my mom when the surgery was performed, and the trauma of the surgery itself.
I went into the hall and called Jeff (no surprise there). I told him I needed him to come, that my mom was acting really weird and I was scared. He said to talk to the nurses and see what was going on and if I could get their help. He said he'd try to come. My dad called and I handed the phone to my mom. She answered very coldly and said something like, "sure you do, then why aren't you here?" and hung up on him. I think he had told her that he loved her and that everything was going to be okay. This was weird because my mom and dad don't have the best relationship. He pretty much drives her crazy and she didn't really enjoy it that much when he came to visit her.
First I went back into my mom's room and she was so upset, she was crying really hard...I'd never seen her cry like that before. I told her we weren't there to hurt her, that we were there to help her. Then she said, "so why isnt your dad here? He's against me too. He doesn't even care." I told her that he was too anxious to drive down to the hospital and she just said, "yeah, right." I held her hand and told her everything would be okay, but she didn't believe me and just kept talking about how we were all against her and how badly the nurses were treating her. She kept saying she wanted to go home and I kept trying to reassure her that she couldn't go home, that she was too sick, and that everyone was only doing what they were doing to help her get better, but she wouldn't believe me.
Then she took this really deep breath, like she was having trouble breathing, and she had this terrified look in her eyes. I thought she was about to stop breathing, but instead, she stopped and pointed straight ahead and said, "do you see her?" I told her there wasn't anyone there. I couldn't take it anymore and I went out to the nurses station to find out what was going on. I told them what she said, and they said it was the opposite. They said they asked my mom if she wanted them to help her lie down and she refused help; that they asked her if she wanted a pain med and she refused it.
I went back in and tried to calm her down. I asked her if she wanted to lie down, and she said yes. I asked her if she wanted pain medication, and she said yes. So I went back and told the nurses. They helped her back into bed, and they gave her a pain med. I sat down next to her bed and felt like I had already been through a whole entire day. I was so exhausted. She started to calm down soon after, as the med was starting to work. My dad called a couple of times and I said it was best if he just stayed home. There was nothing he could do...she was asleep and I wanted her to stay that way. Jeff FINALLY came by when she was asleep. Since she seemed to be okay, he didn't stay very long and she didn't even know he was there. My dad also ended up coming a while later.
While my mom was asleep, she would sporadically moan like she was in pain. She opened her eyes on and off and honestly every time she did, I was scared. I just curled up in the chair next to her, with no TV on, no light on, and the blinds closed. I didn't talk much. My dad asked if there was a way to turn on some light and I told him I didn't want any light on. I just wanted to rest. I closed my eyes but could never really fall asleep. I was afraid that if I did, my mom would either start acting strange again or that the worst would happen. About every 10 minutes, I looked at her chest to make sure it was still moving up and down; that she was still breathing. I positioned my chair so that it was in just the right place for me to see without having to make a lot of noise or movement when I looked.
While my mom was asleep, the nutritionist came in and told me that she was going to have to put a feeding tube into my mom because she was becoming more and more malnourished. She said it wouldn't hurt, it would just be uncomfortable. I just kind of nodded, half listening, and half off somewhere in my own little world. I wasn't really giving consent. She didn't ask me for consent. She just told me what they were planning on doing. Now that my mom was no longer unable to make decisions for herself, I really had no say.
I felt like I sat there forever. I just wanted to go to sleep. I was so tired, but I didn't know if my body wouldn't let me, if my mind wouldn't let me, or if I just wasn't comfortable. Finally my dad decided he wanted to turn the TV on. Shortly after that, my mom woke up, and I was afraid of what would happen (that's why I didn't want to turn the TV on!!!). She seemed pretty lucid and normal. She told me she needed some more pain meds, so I went to get the nurse to give her some.
Soon after that she got her pain meds, the nurses came in and said that they had to change the dressing on her leg. They turned on the lights and I could barely see. The room looked completely different; like some sterile, white room from an insane asylum or something. I couldn't get my eyes to adjust. The nurses drew the curtain and we left the room. Then one of them called my dad in and asked him if he had been told about the feeding tube. He said no (though he was sitting right there when the nutritionist told us about it). I heard what was going on and I said yes, we had been told. They asked if my mom knew about it and I said she was asleep when the nutritionist came in to talk to us. So one of the nurses told her about it and asked if she was okay with having a feeding tube put in her. She got that look again, that stubborn, cold, hateful look that she had when she first looked at me when I arrived hours before. She said, "go ahead, you're going to do whatever you want anyway."
After the nurses were done changing her dressing we came back in and she was very upset. She asked us why we were doing this to her and weren't standing up for her. Specifically, she blamed my dad. I told her that she needed this because she wasn't eating enough. She said she was eating the crap that they gave her even though it tasted awful. And by this time she was, but it was only ONE meal that she had actually eaten, the one she had finished before I got there. She started crying and just kept going on and on about how we weren't helping her and were forcing her to do this, most of it directed at my dad. She said we were trying to get rid of her and I started crying and telling her that was not true, that we were just trying to help her. I had such a hard time convincing her that we were just doing what was best for her. Ironically, the nurse then came in with her dinner, if you could call it that. She said she was eating their crappy food and she didn't need a feeding tube. I told her that it was good that she was eating, but she needed extra nutrients because of all the time she didn't eat. I said this would be a supplement to her eating...that she needed to keep eating, but the tube would help her get better faster. It was like trying to rationalize with a tree.
Then Jeff came in. He had just gotten off of work and he saw my mom acting very upset and crying very hard again. I don't know what he did or said, but it calmed her down a little. He used a more firm tactic, while I was talking to her like a child. He told her she had nothing to be upset about and that the doctors were just trying to help her. Jeff and I were on each side of her bed. She grabbed our hands and asked us individually if we trusted the doctors. We said that we did, and she said that if we did, she would too, and she would do whatever they told her to do. She said she was sorry for being so stubborn and that again told us individually that she didn't want to lose us. We told her she wouldn't lose us and she told me she loved me and told Jeff she loved him.
Then she started eating. We all just kinda stood there. I felt like we were just watching her eat. We weren't, but that's what it felt like. For some reason I saw things from her perspective, all of us staring down at her while she ate. We just kind of chatted while she ate and made fun of some of the food. She was still getting VERY pureed food, almost like baby food. In some ways I felt like she was the baby now and I was the mommy. She said we didn't have to stay, but for some reason I felt like I had to stay until she finished eating; like it was rude to leave before she was done. When she was done eating, I started crying and told her I was so proud of her. Then we decided to leave. I was so exhausted and hungry, and I had a migraine. Jeff was tired from his long day. I could tell my dad was just kind of out of it...so was I. We said goodbye, I kissed her on the forehead, told her I loved her, and she said she loved me too. I think it was harder leaving her then than it was on her first night there. I had planned on staying until visiting hours were over, but I left around 7pm. I was so afraid to leave, but she seemed okay.
When we got outside into the fresh, cool air, I said, "Oh my God, that was so hard." I suddenly realized what I had gone through that day. When I was living it the moment, it seemed like I didn't realize what was happening, but the minute I got out of the hospital, I realized what I had just gone through and my whole body felt like it was going to collapse. We went to our cars and while driving home, I felt like a zombie and was trying to sort through and understand what the hell happened. Pieces of the day kept going through my head, especially her cold looks and harsh words directed at me. I didn't understand how she could think I would EVER want to hurt her. Of all people, she ALWAYS knew I was the one she could trust the most.
When we got home I ate, and then lied down and watched TV. I barely spoke. I felt numb and irritable, worried, depressed, and scared. I could not stop thinking about my mom and wondering if she was going to have another one of those episodes. The day kept replaying and replaying in my head until I couldn't stand it anymore. I started crying SO hard. I just kept yelling "NO!!!" over and over. It just hurt so much and I thought if I cried hard and loud enough, I would feel better and everything would go back to normal. Then I realized that all the crying in the world wouldn't fix anything. My mom thought I could hurt her and be against her and I couldn't reconcile that with myself. I was so confused and worried. I was afraid she would always be this way. I worried about...I was scared of...I was depressed about...EVERYTHING.
The whole day kept replaying faster and faster in my head and I couldn't stop it. So I did the only thing I thought possible to make it all go away. I tried to run away from it. I got up and ran out the front door. It had been raining on and off, and it was sprinkling. My socks were getting wet and the rain was drizzling on my face. I got to the sidewalk and just stood there. I didn't know where to go from there. I started crying again. Jeff came out and asked me what the hell I was doing. He picked me up and brought me back in the house. I was still crying. He comforted me while I bawled my head off some more, and told me I couldn't do things like that and that I scared him. I never knew that such a little person could have so many tears in her.
And that's all I want to say. I feel like I've pretty much written the entire contents of my brain. I don't even know if I want to share this with anyone now that I've written it. I feel like its too private to share. I feel like it would be wrong to share what my mom went through with everyone reading this without her reading it first. I don't want to embarrass her and I don't want anyone to think badly of her. I feel like I'm exposing her, like some kind of tabloid reporter. Mostly I feel vulnerable to all of the eyes that may see this and what they would think of me and my mom. I really don't think she could help it. I think the meds, the trauma of the surgery, and being in the hospital was really getting to her and this was her way of expressing her frustrations and fears.
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